The journey of Thranduil Oropherion
by Turannoktonnos
Summary: Things went different on that farewell between Thranduil and Legolas. Seeing the amounts of deaths, Legolas seems his father unfit to rule, which causes Thranduil to leave in a fit of anger. He travels and will join the fellowship. AU. This is my first story, please enjoy!
1. A dispute and a departure

Thranduil slowly walked across the battlefield. Dead orcs, goblins and trolls everywhere. He did not care about that. All that mattered were those hundreds of slain elves all over the place. It made him feel nauseous.  
Legolas. Was he alright? Thranduil hurried across the battlefield, looking for those typical golden locks. While walking, he recognised more and more elves, and he couldn't hold it anymore. Very unkingly, he threw up. All of a sudden, he heard a voice. "Hir nin, are you quite alright?" Thranduil straitened himself and saw Daerdnir, one of his loyal guards look at him with eyes full of concern.  
"I will survive. Have you seen my son, Legolas?"  
"Yes, my lord, he was heading up that mountain, I think." he said and he pointed at the mountain where Azog had been.  
Thranduil grabbed the reins of a horse that had lost his rider, and he rode swiftly towards the mountain.

A bit later, he arrived at the top of that rather small mountain, and he dismounted. To his right, he saw the elleth that had stolen his sons heart and broken it, Tauriel. She was crying over the body of a dwarf. And then, a voice he knew all too well, but had hardly ever heard that sharp snapped at him:  
"How could you! You're supposed to be a good and caring king!"  
"...Legolas.." Thranduil tried to interrupt, but his son, whose face was reddening with anger didn't listen.  
"You led hundreds of our people to their death! And what for? Oh, yes pretty white gems!"  
"Greenleaf, don't you dare talk to me like that!" Thranduil felt his legendary temper beginning to rise.  
"You know what I think, adar? You're not fit to be king, all you bring is death! You're becoming an old elf and it's time you sail away! I hate you!"  
Thranduils mouth slightly parted in shock, as he was searching for an answer.  
Legolas did feel a bit guilty about the things he had said, mostly after seeing the look of shock and most importantly hurt in his father's icy blue eyes.  
"So you think you can do better? That I'm unfit to rule?! Well, do it yourself!"  
Thranduil shouts, anger and hurt getting the better of him. He grabs his royal circlet from his head in a brusque movement, making a few strands of hair fall in front of his face making him almost look like a madman, and he throws the circlet at Legolas' feet.  
"I've got enough of this! I'm leaving 'Mirkwood' as they call it now, and leave it all to you, the great and wonderful Legolas. And you want to know why I did this? Why I send my army here? Because without them, the men and the dwarves would have been slain, the kingdom of Angmar would rise once more, and Greenwood would be gone for once and all!"  
After that, Thranduil strides of, trying to hide the emotions racing through his body. He grabbed the horse that still stood where he left it, and rode away.

Legolas stared at the circlet on the ground. 'What have I done?' he thought. 'I hope he didn't mean that...I can't handle this kingdom, he just had to make a sacrifice to protect his people...and I insulted him and might have let him leave.'

Legolas went down and asked every elf if they had seen his father. It was as if he had vanished with the wind. The young elf looked down at the circlet in his hand and crumbled on the ground, sobbing.

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He kept riding, didn't look back. Betrayed by his own son... Thranduil did realise that his decision was made in a rush of anger, but that didn't matter.  
Where would he go now? Greenwood had been his home for most of his life, and now, he could no longer go back. He had been riding south all the time, and only stopped when his horse almost collapsed. His horse... whose horse was this? None of the men had had a horse, because they lived in a lake, and the elves had come by foot. It was a tall, dark brown stallion, with white socks and a white blaze. And then the realization dawned upon him. He had stolen the horse from Gandalf.  
He looked around where he was and saw that he was near the Celduin, which meant he had been riding for 2 days without stopping for food or sleep.  
He realised he could not go on like this, and went searching for any sign of life. After an hour or so walking, he saw some smoke in the sky. He took off his armour, wrapped it up in his cloak, and he put his swords away, trying to look less intimidating. Then, he walked towards the house and knocked on the door. An old woman opened. Her eyes grew wide when she saw there stood an elf before her.  
"Excuse me, milady, I have been travelling for 2 days nonstop, and I hoped to give my horse a rest and get some provisions."  
The old lady began ushering him inside :" Oh you poor lad, get inside, I still have some broth left over. Imdril?" A boy came down from the stairs. "Yes grandma?" "Could you tend to the poor travellers horse?" Imdril immediately hurried away to tend to the exhausted horse, and the woman introduced herself as Alma.  
That was the moment that Thranduil realised he'd need a new name. "Eh, my name is...is...Turandhil, and I'm travelling towards...Imladris."  
"Well, then you will need some better travelling clothes, I might still have something left from my former husband."  
Thranduil, surprised by the hospitality first wanted to say that it was unnecessary, but ended up expressing his gratitude.  
Thranduil ate his broth while listening to the stories Alma and her grandchild Imdril were telling him, but after a while, exhaustion caught up on him, and he began to fall asleep. Alma carefully shook him so that he would not fall asleep and showed him to a room where he could rest. After Alma had left, he fell asleep like a block.

/He stood on top of that mountain once more and saw his son in front of him. "You're a coward, a kin slayer! You're not my ada!" Thranduil tried to interrupt him, but Legolas grabbed one of his daggers and stabbed him. Everything around him vanished and he sat alone trying to stop the bleeding. Around him, faces appeared. His father, Tauriel, elves that had died in the battle,... They came to haunt him. They stretched their arms out towards him and he screamed./

Thranduil shot up in his bed, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. Calming himself, he looked out of the window and saw the sun rising. He began dressing himself, not wearing his own tunic and boots but the ones from Alma's husband. He also took the cloak and went down.  
"Are you leaving already, Turandhil?" Asked Alma, who was standing in the kitchen.  
"Yes, I can't stay any longer..."  
"Well then I wish you good luck on your journey, farewell."  
Thranduil once more expressed his gratitude, and he saddled up his horse once more. He put the provisions he had been given in the saddlebags he had bought and rode of, towards the bridge over the Celduin. He parted on his way to Rivendell.


	2. Lothlorien

Thranduil had been travelling for almost a month now. His boots were caked with mud and there was dirt in his cloak. He had released his horse a week ago, because the poor animal would not survive the rest of the journey. When would he reach Lothlorien? And of course, he had no luck, and rain began to fall. He pulled his hood over his face and grunted grumpily. After a while, he was drenched to the bone. Although elves are not supposed to feel the cold, Thranduil still shivered because he was exhausted and cold. He asked the trees if the road to Lothlorien would still take a long time, and the trees answered that he would soon reach it. But then, it went wrong. The ground, softened by the rain and slick and muddy, began to glide, causing the weary elf to slip, and glide down the hill. He felt rocks hit him, causing him to gasp, which was a mistake as a gulp of mud entered his mouth. Then, a rock hit his head and everything went black.

Haldir lead his patrol between the trees. From the shimmering golden leaves, diamond water droplets fell down. He frowned. Something felt of. He walked towards the edge of the territory ruled by Galadriel and Celeborn, not listening to the questions of his patrol about where he was going. At the edge of the Golden Forest, he looked around. A few birds flew up, but for the rest, nothing was off. But still... Using his sharp elven eyes he looked around, but saw nothing but trees and a weird shaped, mud covered rock. Haldir frowned, because the rock didn't seem natural. He slowly walked towards it, followed by his patrol. Only a few meters away, he heard his second in command, Lathnir gasp. "By the Valar, that's an elf!". Quickly, they walked towards the unconscious elf and turned him on his back. He was covered with mud, and there were streaks of blood in the mud on some places. Haldir crouched and asked for his water bottle and a piece of cloth. Pouring some of the water on the cloth, he wiped away the mud from the ellon's face as good as possible. The elf had blondish hair, but Haldir could not see if it was dark blonde or light. It seemed as if the elf had been hit by a rock on the head, causing him a nasty head wound. Haldir stood up and dusted of his knees. "Lathnir, I want you to continue the patrol. Indrel and I are going to bring this elf to the healers." Haldir ordered. As the 5 elves returned to the patrol, Haldir told the remaining elf to make a makeshift stretcher. In the meanwhile, Haldir tried to awaken the unknown elf in vain. With a grunt, the two elves laid the third one carefully on the stretcher, and began to carry him away, towards Lothlorien.

Galadriel sat, watching the trees, while her husband was reading, when all of a sudden, a messenger entered the platform. "My lady, my lord," he said bowing hastily:"Lord Haldir has returned, with an injured elf." Celeborn and Galadriel stood and began to go towards the healing rooms, where Haldir stood near the door. Celeborn asked Haldir where he had found this mysterious elf. "Just outside the border, it seemed he had been caught in a mudslide. I do not recognize him, but I thought that if anyone would know him, it would have to be you or Lady Galadriel." Celeborn nodded, and followed his wife into the healing room. An assistant healer was cleaning the mud away from the elf as good as possible, while another healer was tending to the head wound. Celeborn walked closer, to have a better look at the elf and gasped. "No way..." He stroked a few loose strands of hair back and Galadriel came to look closer, to see what had shocked Celeborn. Galadriel frowned, and said:" Now, my dearest husband, what brings your cousin to our lands, and in a state like this?"

Thranduil groggily came awake, hearing hushed voices nearby. He wondered why it felt as if there was a troll sitting on his head. He tried to open his eyes, but squinted at the bright light and closed them again with a small grunt. Then, he heard a soft voice:"Thranduil, slowly open your eyes, I know the light is too bright, but you have to open them." Slowly, he opened his silvery-blue eyes, and looked up. After blinking a few times, he saw the faces of his cousin from Doriath, Celeborn, and his wife Galadriel. She told him that she'd get the healer to check him out and then left the room. In the meanwhile, Celeborn propped him up against some cushions, making the room spin in front of Thranduil's eyes. He brought a hand to his head and grunted. Then, he croaked out:"Could I get something to drink please?" Celeborn quickly filled a cup with sparkling water and held it to Thranduil's lips, who quickly drank it. Only when he was satisfied, he looked around. He saw his cousin sitting on the chair besides him. Celeborn smiled and said that it was good to see him. Then his face became serious again. "Thranduil, we received a letter from your son, saying that you left Mirkwood and left him to rule." Thranduil remained silent at that and looked down at his hands."He also asked in the letter that if we ever found you that we should keep you here and send word to him that you were found."Thranduil looked up, eyes flashing."Don't tell me you will do that, Celeborn, who is more important to you, your cousin, or his son!" Celeborn sighed and his shoulders slumped."I'm sorry Thranduil, but I can understand why Legolas wants us to do this, so I will have to keep you here." Not waiting for Thranduil to answer, he walked towards the door. Looking over his shoulder and said:" The healer will arrive in a few minutes." And then he walked out, and locked the door.  
Thranduil was furious. He walked towards the door and tried to open it, but it was in vain. He put on the boots and clothes that laid on the chair, and noticed that his bag with his armour and swords still laid there. Then, he looked at the window. He opened it and looked down. It was a long way down, which probably was the reason Celeborn and Galadriel would not expect him to be able to escape using the window. He grinned at that thought. Of course, they had forgotten how close he was to the trees and the nature, for he was closer to nature than even most Silvan elves. He grabbed the Lembas bread, put it in his bag and hung it over his shoulder. Then, he crouched on the border of the window, assessing the height and lengths he'd have to jump and he jumped, landing on a branch of the mallorn in front of the healing rooms. He wavered for a moment as a wave of dizziness hit him because of the head wound. After shaking his head to clear this, he jumped again, and swinging through the trees like a real wood elf, he began to escape. Looking down, he saw elves panicking and wondering what was going on. Some guards began to follow him, and Galadriel and Celeborn came outside, looking shocked. "Thranduil, don't leave! You still need to heal!" Celeborn called out, but Thranduil felt hot anger at his cousin for betraying him to his son. At the border of Lothlorien, he once more looked back, and then went ahead, following the river Celebrant towards the mountains.


	3. Unexpected guest

Thranduil was happy, for once. He was whistling a merry Silvan elvish tune and his steps were energetic. This was a bit curious for he still had to pass the Misty Mountains. But Thranduil knew better; the animals were friendly to him, giving him directions if necessary, and the weather was rather good. He would probably not have problems with heavy snowfall. He jumped from rock to rock and then, at a high point, he closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. A soft breeze was toying with his hair. Oh, how much he had missed travelling, or even just being in the nature. In his own kingdom, he had been too caught up with reports from his border patrols and similar things. But now, he could finally, after almost 3000 years, since he had become king.  
He heard something. His eyes snapped open and he quickly glanced to his left. Goblins. As he didn't know how many, he elegantly jumped of the rock and crouched behind a boulder. There were almost twenty of them, which meant that it would be smartest if he did not attack. Of course, he had no luck because one of the goblins began to sniffle loudly. "Oi, I smell an elf scum." The leader of the group, Ulrabarch sniffed to, and said:"Yea, me smell it too. Now where is he hiding, maybe we can roast him." The goblins spread out and began to search. Thranduil slowly grabbed his swords in his two hands, waited for one of the goblins to come close enough, and then, all of a sudden, he jumped up and beheaded the goblin. Then, with a fierce war cry, he began to attack the goblins. He seemed a fury of silver. A whirlwind.  
All around him goblins died, and by the time they were all slain, black blood dripped from his swords, and he seemed like some sort of demon from the old worlds. Streaks of black blood through his hair and on his face, his eyes like burning ice. He wiped his swords on the 'clothes' of one of the goblins and scowled at the thought of having to fight along the way.

Thranduil continued his journey, no more merry but deep in thought. Why were the goblins so high up here in the mountains? He kept on walking until the sun began to disappear behind the mountains, and he searched for some sort of shelter for the night. He ended up trying to get comfortable between a cliff and a boulder, with hardly any shelter should it rain. After trying to lay good on his cloak, what failed, he grumbled angrily and stood up once more. He knew that even with elven sight, Caradras was not safe at night.  
Giving up on trying to sleep, he sat down on a boulder, put his face in his hands, and just sat there, pondering why he had such bad luck and why things like this always happened to him. He sat there all night, staring up at the sky, thinking of Legolas and Lasniriel, his dead wife.

It seemed that he had still fallen asleep on the boulder, as he woke up the next day, with sunshine hitting his face. He stretched, and sat up, remembering where he was. Today, he would cross Caradras, he told himself.  
He looked down at the cloak Alma had given him, and realised he probably smelled almost as bad as an Orc. He decided that he should try to find a source of water to wash himself.

At noon, he had crossed more than half of the mountain pass, as he had been running. He found a small pool of water, and took of his clothes. Thranduil stepped into the freezing water, and shivered slightly. The water must be molten ice. He let himself sink deeper into the water, and closed his eyes.

After what must have been an hour, Thranduil was mostly clean, and dried by the sun, he put on his clothes once more. He wrung out his platina hair and fastened his cloak.

He began running again, and by the time evening was nearing, he saw the border of the forests of Imladris. He stood there, pondering if he should meet his old friend, Elrond, or if he should continue his travel.  
After all, could he trust a friend if he even couldn't trust family?

...

The elvenlord of olden days raked a hand through his ebony locks and sighed deeply.  
What a heavy day this had been.

He had just said farewell to the hobbit, Bilbo, who was heading home, he had had multiple meetings, and although he could keep his stoic facade up, he had been utterly bored.

More exciting was the fact that his sons , Elladan, Elohir and Estel would come home the next day.  
Furthermore, there was also the worrying fact of Thranduil having vanished.

He had read the letter from Legolas, and it had worried him greatly, because if Thranduil had run away from Eryn Galen, something must have upset him a great deal.

Elrond entered his room, and took of the heavily embroiled robes.  
He put on something lighter, and saw a light supper, mostly consisting of fruit on his table. He smiled, remembering how helpful Erestor could be.

After eating some grapes, he stepped outside on the balcony and inhaled some fresh air.

"You know, I have always thought you don't go out enough."

Elrond spinned around, while taking a hidden knife out of his shirt sleeve. He pointed it towards the neck of the intruder.

The sindar lord seemed shocked at first, but then pushed the knife down singlehanded.  
Elronds mouth fell open.  
"...T-Thranduil?"

With a slight grin, Thranduil answered:  
"Well, these days I have called myself Turandhil, but yes, mellon-nin, it is I"

Elrond moved to hug him, in relief that his good friend was alive, but the blonde elf held up his hands and said:  
"Hey, personal space"  
And the lord of Imladris remembered that his friend didn't really like physical contact

"Come with me, let's talk." And he lead his unexpected guest inside.

The two mighty elves took a seat in the comfortable chairs, and Elrond took in his friends appearance.  
Thranduil seemed...younger. Even though he still had his regal composing, he seemed more alive.  
He wore rather simple human travelling clothes, but he had a rather big bag with him, which must contain his armor.

His hair was not as perfect as always, and it had been braided away, which Elrond hadn't seen in many years.

What worried him more was the angry red scab on his forehead.

"What happened to your head, Thranduil?"  
"Oh...ehm...I might have slipped."

Elrond almost snorted.  
"The mighty Thranduil slipped?"  
His friend frowned and crossed his arms.

"Now, let's have some more serious talk. What are you planning to do, melon-nin? Where are you planning to head towards?"

"Well...I thought that I could stay here for a while, but I realise that Legolas will search here quickly so..."

The dark-haired elf nodded, deep in thought and then said:  
"Yes, this is quite the tricky situation...But I might have an idea..."

Thranduil straightened up in his chair and asked him what his idea is.

"You could travel towards the Shire, towards Hobbiton...the hobbits will certainly give you a place to sleep, and I doubt Legolas will ever go search for you there, because after all, he has never seen you acting other then the kingly."

Thranduil stroked his chin, deep in thought and then slowly nodded in agreement.

"Now, my guess is you would like to rest a bit, so I will have a guest room nearby prepared. You can stay here for a few days, maybe a week, but I fear the news will spread fast that you are here.  
After all, it only took one day for the news from Lothlorien to reach Rivendell."

Both elves stood up, and greeted each other farewell, and the night fell slowly.


End file.
